" 𝔦'𝔪 𝔞 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔳𝔬𝔯 "
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
In an attempt to save her sister, and survive
the Hunger Games, Rowan Everdeen meets
Cato Hadley, the murderous boy from
District 2 who might be just what she
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
" i work alone "
rowan's view
ℑ woke up to a knife pressed against my throat, pinching my skin and drawing little red drops of blood.
It was only a few hours ago that I had applied the maple leaves to Cato's wounds, and watched as the tension left his shoulders and he finally fell into a restful sleep. After that, it was easy to curl up in one of the cave's many corners with my sleeping bag, and fall asleep. Although my sleep certainly hadn't been as restful as Cato's appeared to be.
The screams of Marvel in his last moments echoed through me head, as resounding as my final decision to throw the knife straight into his frontal lobe, killing him instantly.
Nightmares plagued me, and I had a sneaking suspicion that they would continue to haunt me until the day I died, whether it was in this Arena or years from now, in a comfortable bed in the Victor's Village. So I slept through them, hoping that the screams that left my lips weren't audible outside of my nightmares.
I didn't know how long I slept for, only that I woke up with a metal blade pressed against my throat, digging into my skin and twisting it unnaturally, making it so the only noise I could emit was a small, pitiful sound resemblant to a kicked dog.
My sight blurred and sharpened as the grogginess from my sleep rapidly deteriorated, allowing my eyes to stare directly into Cato's. I sucked in a sharp breath when I saw Cato's expression, which was twisted into a nasty snarl of fury, his upper lip curled and a murderous glint in his eyes that made my stomach twist into knots.
All my muscles tensed when I realized that all of my weapons were unwisely sitting on the other side of the cave, in a pile, along with my backpack and at least a dozen maple leaves. My back was pressed up against the sharp cave wall, my sleeping bag tangled in between my legs. I was trapped.
I glanced back up to Cato, letting out a small hiss when he pressed against my jugular, and I felt the sharp sword slice through my skin, the red liquid that was my blood slipping down my throat in tiny droplets. Ironic, that the same Capitolian metal - the metal that was made in my District - that I had used to kill people, was now being used to kill me.
Or maybe not, because as soon as my skin sliced open, revealing my blood, Cato's eyes flickered down to the blade of his sword and his pressure let up. I let out a small gasp of air as the sword hovered by my neck, no longer pressing against my throat, but still close enough that I understood the threat.
"Where are we?" Cato asked gruffly, watching me with furrowed eyebrows as I raised my right hand and brushed my fingers against my wound, flinching when it stung, and my fingertips were once again stained red. "Where are we!" Cato repeated, borderline growling it this time.
